


thanksgiving ball

by the_cat_marauder



Series: agape. [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Supergirl (TV 2015), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ear Kisses, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Forehead Kisses, Gentle Kissing, Kisses, Kissing, Modern Era, Reader-Insert, Secret Relationship, Vice President Jefferson, Vice President Thomas Jefferson, based on actual arguments bet me and my friends, im team steph on this one, lots of kisses, neck kisses, nose kisses, pfoon vs spork, soft thom is my favourite thom you can't convince me otherwise, some making out, steph and tim arguing is art mimicking life, thom is soft for y/n and he just wants to let everyone know he loves her okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27759850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_cat_marauder/pseuds/the_cat_marauder
Summary: The Luthors decide to throw a thanksgiving ball, inviting every famous person ever under one roof. A certain up-and-coming lawyer catches the eye of the VPOTUS. Lots of fluff, kisses, yearning (bc i’m a sucker for that).(Disclaimer: You don’t have to know about the DC universe to make sense of the story, they’re really more cameos than anything else.)
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Dolley Madison/James Madison, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Thomas Jefferson/Reader
Series: agape. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030665
Kudos: 6





	thanksgiving ball

**Author's Note:**

> Could be considered a Hamilton x DC crossover bc honestly, I’m too lazy to think up my own characters and I also like the idea of a modern Hamilton AU happening in a space where people like Bruce and the Luthors exist, because that certainly changes the dynamic of how politics might work in their universe (depending on whether or not certain rich execs decide to use their money to influence public policy, lookin at u lex 👀👀👀) Despite this! You don’t have to know about the DC universe to make sense of the story, they’re really more cameos than anything else. 
> 
> Anyway, I just really needed to write this. I have a midterm due in two days and an essay I have to pass in five hours that I’ve barely touched, but c’est la vie, mes amours. Wish me luck ❤
> 
> Please enjoy, and don’t forget to kudos and comment!
> 
> and if you have any ideas, suggestions for the overall story, hmu bc i really need someone to talk to about this  
> tumblr: @the-lost-marauder

The ballroom was decorated with all sorts of lavish ornaments, silk fabric trailing the ceiling to the floor, a red carpet lining the entryway, as guests filled in and servers moved about, carrying tray after tray of drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

Their group entered the room one after the other, with journalists stopping them for a picture.

First came Diana Prince, who paused only briefly at the entrance to answer a question from Louis Kent about the new exhibit she headed.

Following her, the Queen family, consisting of Oliver Queen, his fiancée, Dinah Lance, and his nieces - Artemis Crock, Cissie King-Jones- and his nephews - Will Harper, Roy Harper, and James Harper - (along with their dates) stopped for a quick family photo, before heading in.

A long list of celebrities, politicians, and entrepreneurs followed. A few on the list were the President Andrew Jackson and Mrs. Jackson, the Vice President Thomas Jefferson, Congressman James Madison and Mrs. Dolley Madison. Aside from the Republican figures that had arrived, Lena Luthor had also invited members of the Democratic Party, including (but not limited to) the former Treasury Secretary Hamilton and his wife and children, the former Vice President John Adams and his wife Abigail, and the former President Washington with his wife, Martha Washington.

The guests all came, one after the other, all of them flaunting their extravagant wears and jewellery, but none garnered the attention of the press so much as the last group of guests that had arrived. True to form, Bruce Wayne had arrived fashionably late, and as expected from the playboy billionaire, he stepped out of his car with a beautiful woman in his arms, Selena Kyle, director of one of Gotham’s finest museums and well-known animal rights activist. They wore matching black evening wears, with Bruce in a fitted black tuxedo, the top buttons of his button-down underneath undone just to complete his carefree look. As for Selena, she wore a long black evening gown, tastefully embellished with sequin, so any time she moved, it caught light at just the right angle to give the effect that she had an ever-present halo surrounding her. A long slit cut-out at the right showed off her slender, toned leg as the couple walked, arm in arm towards the entrance.

Following behind them were a gaggle of Bruce’s children, namely, Richard Grayson and his date Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd (who everyone thought to be dead for a while, but turned out to apparently have gone on a prolonged vacation in Eastern Europe), Timothy Drake Wayne, Stephanie Brown (who despite not being part of the family in any official capacity, had been around them frequently enough to be considered as such), Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne, and the latest addition to the family, Duke Thomas, followed by Selena’s ward, Y/N L/N.

The press had a field day taking pictures of the Wayne group as they walked through the red carpet all the way to the entrance, but the children (who would oppose being addressed as such) had become adept at avoiding cameras and huddled together, so only their backs were seen.

After what seemed like a long while deflecting press questions and cameras, they made it to the entrance, and the party was already in full swing.

Despite popular belief, Luthors were actually quite adept at throwing parties, or at least, Lena Luthor was. Her brother had never actually thrown a party that wasn’t for the purpose of celebrating one of his own achievements, so there wasn’t much of a threshold for what a good Luthor party was. In any case, the music blasted from the speakers, a DJ sifting through popular, contemporary songs, stopping periodically when someone requested a song to be played by the live band Lena hired for the event. The drinks flowed. The alcohol was good, and the buffet table was never empty.

Generally, at parties with so many different groups of people, politicians and actors alike, the dance floor always seemed to be empty, as neither guest wanted to make themselves a fool in front of the other. However, at this party, as Lena invited her girlfriend, Kara, to attend, the host was currently occupying the dance floor, swaying to the music with the blonde journalist beside her. As such, guests followed, dancing to the beat of  _ I’m Yours _ that someone requested the string quartet to play.

Y/N found herself nodding to the music, as she eyed her brothers, who were arguing about something or the other. Whatever it was, she didn’t bother to pay attention.

Her gaze wandered past Dick and Jason, and at the magenta-clad man, standing at the opposite end of the room, making animated conversation with Lafayette. Lafayette, who noticed her staring on more than one occasion, cocked a brow at her direction, before waving a hand at her, which caught the attention of the man he was conversing with. Thomas Jefferson turned toward the direction Lafayette waved, and spotted the girl clad in a deep sea foam green silk evening gown, his eyes immediately wandering to the alluring red of her lipstick as her lips parted in surprise when he looked back at her.

He gave her a bright teasing grin, making his way to her table, and she felt her cheeks warm as she flushed at his nearing presence. The Frenchman followed behind him, watching the scene with a curious eye.

Y/N looked away as Thomas approached, acting as though she didn’t notice his presence, and listened in on the conversation between Stephanie and Tim, who were debating the semantics between spork/pfoon.

“I’m just saying people already call it a spork, Steph! I don’t see why you need to insist on saying pfoon when there’s already a name for it.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes, flicking one of the peas on her plate in his direction

“Well, given that it’s a stupid name, I’m electing to ignore it.”

Y/N laughed at this, garnering the two’s attention.

“I mean, she has a point, why not call it pfoon? What have you got to lose? Plus, considering that it works better as a spoon than a fork, it makes more sense that the word utilizes more of the letters of spoon than fork.”

Tim shot her an exasperated expression.

“You’re really siding with her on this one?”

She shrugged, shoulders shaking with her quiet laughter.

Tim watched her amusement, eyes growing wide as he recalled something from earlier the day. He elbowed the man sitting beside him, and Will shot him a dirty look, rubbing his arm where Tim hit it.

“What?” The redhead whispered aggressively.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask a certain  _ someone _ to dance tonight?” Tim whispered back, eyes flitting between Y/N, who was now engaged in a conversation with Stephanie about a more practical design for the spork, or pfoon, rather.

Will rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Gee, Tim, I don’t know if that’s such a-”

Roy interrupted him before he could finish the thought.

“Y/N, wanna dance with Will?”

Y/N turned her attention at the three men, brows quirking up curiously.

“Hm?”

Roy eyed Will, challenging him to invite her himself.

“Oh, uh, d’you wanna dance? I mean the music’s good, and it’s a thanksgiving party, and everyone’s on the dance floor, so I don’t see why-”

She gave him a small smile, shaking her head, and for the first time since he’d known her, he noticed (just barely) the age in her face. They were both young still, but he saw the weariness in her smile, the bags under her eyes, the wrinkles on her forehead, and the way her shoulders slumped just slightly as she declined his offer.

“Sorry, Will. I might have to pass, not exactly in a mood to dance.”

He gave her a sweet smile, nodding at her words.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

He hesitated for a moment, before continuing, concern etched in his face.

“If there’s anything you want to talk about though, you should know I’m here for you.”

She tilted her head, considering his offer, before smiling at him once more.

“Maybe one of these days, I’ll take you up on that.”

She glanced behind Dick and Jason, wondering what was taking Thomas so long to reach her. He seemed to be having a one-sided conversation with Louis Kent, who threw question after question at him, which he answered with a tight smile, and a charismatic mask. If it weren’t for the way he gripped his glass, or the periodic tap of his shoe, she wouldn’t have been able to tell that he was impatient to end the conversation.

Her eyes lit up at the sight, and she struggled to hide the grin growing on her face.

Her attention was diverted as she heard Hamilton’s voice approaching the table. Turning her head, she saw him having an animated conversation with Bruce about… federal tax reform? She wasn’t sure, but the two men approached the table, followed by Selina and Eliza, who were discussing a potential partnership between Eliza’s orphanage and Selina’s animal shelter.

The four made their way to the table, sitting at the empty seats beside Barbara. Eliza offered her a warm smile, before returning to her conversation with Selina while Alex seemed too absorbed in his conversation with Bruce to even spare her a glance.

“I’ll… go get a drink.” She said to no one in particular, standing to escape the suffocating feeling that grew in her as more and more people approached the table. Jason took notice, and stood up with her.

“Want me to come with?”

She shook her head, declining his offer.

“No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”

Alex spared her a glance, finally acknowledging her presence, casting her a concerned look. She shook her head once again, forcing a tight smile on her face to mask her discomfort.

“Like I said, I’ll be fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing her.

She turned to make her way to the bar, and her view was filled with magenta as Thomas stood in front of her, a wide, teasing grin plastered on his face.

“Glad I caught you, sweetheart.” He drawled, lips curling upward as his eyes roamed up and down her body, taking in the way the dress draped against her form, hugging her curves, complementing the colour of her eyes.

“To what do I owe the honour, Mr. Vice President?”

Her tone was light and inquiring, as she fought to hide the grin that threatened to spill on her lips, the sweat on her palms displaying the nervousness and excitement she felt upon seeing her love in public for the first time in ages.

His eyes gleamed at the nickname, and he held a hand out to her. She took it, shaking his hand, and then retracting hers, reaching to tuck the loose strand of hair behind her ear in an attempt at modesty. He caught her hand, echoing its movement and tucking her hair behind her ear, then he took her hand in his, and brought it to his lips.

“Please, call me Thomas.” He gave her a charming grin, and she felt butterflies in her stomach, as she gently removed her hand from his.

She gave him a puzzled expression, pursing her lips ever slightly, biting the inside of her cheek, as she tried to read past the show he was putting on.

“I don’t know if I should be so casual with the Vice President of the United States.”

“It’s your own choice, Miss L/N, but I did want to discuss something with you regarding the Samson case. Would you care to have a dance?”

He offered his hand once again, and she gave him a slight smile.

“I suppose one does not simply decline the Vice President of the United States.”

She took her hand in his, and her smile widened, though she tried to fight it (and failed).

“Then, please, if you insist on dropping formalities, call me Y/N.”

He returned her smile, gazing at her affectionately as he led her to the dance floor.

“Y/N it is then.”

They bowed simultaneously when they reached the dance floor, and he guided her hand to his shoulder as his rested on her waist. The melody of violins filled the room, drowning all previous conversation, and they swayed, and turned in time with the music, attention focused only on each other.

“What are you doing?” She whispered to him, as he dipped her.

“I’m leadin’ you in the dance, am I not allowed?” He replied, lifting his arm, and prompting her to turn.

“I meant, at the bar. Why did you even invite me to dance? You know if someone finds out, we’re-”

“Sweetheart, no one will be any wiser. We’re just dancin’, and in any case, may I remind you that I am a  _ bachelor _ ?” She raised her brow as he emphasized the last word.

“Mm, so I let them think I’m one of your potential conquests?”

He gave her a devilish grin.

“Aren’t you?”

She playfully batted his shoulder, as they continued to dance.

“Thomas, I swear to god.”

“What’s your favourite genre?” He asked all of a sudden.

She furrowed her brows, wondering why he asked such a question, considering the hours they’d spent discussing literature and literary analysis, and her eyes widened as his intentions became clear.

She grinned, playing along with his scheme, mimicking one of their first (non)dates.

“I’m quite partial to poetry.”

“Oh? Any favourites?”

“It’s basic, but… Frost has a place in my heart.”

He chuckled at this, turning her to match the movements of the other dancers.

“What? You love  _ A Road Not Taken _ ?”

She scrunched her nose in disdain, placing her hand on his shoulder as she returned to first position.

“That’s too basic, even for me.” She rolled her eyes with this. “My favourite poem is  _ Walking through the Woods on a Snowy Evening _ .”

He hummed at this, and it was her turn to ask.

“What about you? I take it you’re a Renaissance man?”

He gave her a cheeky grin.

“What gave it away?”

She laughed at this, her shoulders shaking as the sound escaped her lips.

“If I were to guess, I’d say John Locke? Maybe even Ralph Waldo Emerson?”

His grin grew wider.

“ _ No law can be sacred to me but that of my nature. Good and bad are but names very readily transferable to that or this; the only right is what is after my constitution, the only wrong what is against it. _ ” He quoted, eyes squinting in amusement at the surprised expression on her face.

“ _ A man is to carry himself in the presence of all opposition, as if every thing were titular and ephemeral but he _ .” She continued the quote, grinning at him.

“Wow, Self-Reliance. Can’t say I’m too surprised.”

“Really? What was with the doe-eyed expression then?”

She scrunched her brows, and shook her head, giving him an exasperated smile.

“I’m surprised you actually memorized it, but of course you would.”

He laughed.

“In my defence, I didn’t take you to be a Romantic, and yet.”

She laughed with him, bowing once again as the music slowly faded away.

“Come with me.”

Thomas offered his hand to her once again, as people began to leave the dance floor.

She reluctantly placed her hand in his, quirking a brow at him.

“And where are we going?”

Despite her apprehension, she let him lead her to the second-floor balcony, taking in the fresh air, as he closed the door behind him.

“Thought you could use some air, sweetheart.”

He stood beside her, as she leaned on the railing of the glass fence.

The surrounding view was covered in darkness, and there was barely any light on the balcony either, save for the faint light coming from the doorway, muffled by the curtains behind it, giving them ample privacy.

His arms found her waist, and he held her close, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“I missed you.”

She hummed in reply, smiling softly, as she rested her arms on top of his.

She leaned her head against his chest, closing her eyes, and inhaling the scent of the grass that travelled from the garden below them.

“Remember in July, when we sat by the fire, and I was reading you a poem by T.S. Eliot, and you cupped my face, and said-”

He cut her off, arms tightening around her waist, and she felt his shoulders tense in anticipation.

“You don’t have to say it, baby. I want you to say it in your own time, only when you mean it.”

“Thomas,” She turned to face him, resting her hands on his shoulder. He relaxed at her touch, but his arms remained on her waist, keeping her close.

“I have a poem for you.”

His lips quirked upward, and his mouth formed a silent “Oh?”

“But first, you’ll have to forgive me for quoting Lang Leav.”

He grinned at her, pressing a kiss to her nose.

“Done.”

She closed her eyes again, focusing on the words she had repeated in her mind in the past month they had been apart.

_ “Love was cruel, as I stood proud. _

_ He showed me you, and I was bowed. _

_ He deftly delt his swiftest blow, _

_ And I fell further than I meant to go. _

_ He ashamed of what he’d caused, _

_ Knew from then that I was yours. _

_ And he the echo, and you the sound, _

_ I love you more than Love allowed.” _

His face was a flurry of emotions, brows furrowed as her words sunk in, and he fought the string of tears that threatened to stain his face.

“Y/N, I…” For the first time, he found himself speechless, unable to express the warmth and pain he felt at the same time.

God, he missed her. God, he wished he could be with her like this always, and it pained him so much that they had to keep stealing glances and moments.

He cupped her face, unaware that he had even done it, mind still a flurry of thoughts one after the other, as she looked up at him with an inquisitive expression.

He pulled her close, pressing his lips against hers, expressing as much as he could in the kiss.

_ I love you,  _ he said in gentle kisses.

_ I miss you,  _ he said by his lips which grew hungrier for hers.

_ I don’t want to lose you.  _ said his arms that snaked across her back and pulled her closer to him.

Eyes shut, she returned his kisses, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck, as she pulled him down, closer to her. He obliged, pushing her against the railing as his kisses grew sloppy and needy. After what felt like minutes, they pulled apart for air, and just as quickly as they inhaled, Thomas’ lips latched onto her neck, kissing and sucking at the base of her neck until she felt a sharp pain on her collarbone, and looking down, he saw her grinning at him as a reddish-purple mark began to form.

“Thomas!” She gasped, swatting his shoulder in faux exasperation.

“People will see!” As she said this, she couldn’t help the smile that formed on her lips.

Thomas chuckled, pressing kisses to the underside of her jaw, hands resting on her hips.

“Good, then let them see.”

Her cheeks reddened at his words, and he felt her ears warm as he pressed a kiss to it, continuing his barrage of kisses across her jaw.

She sighed, arms still resting on his neck as she let her head fall back, allowing Thomas more access to her neck. She could have stayed like this forever, warm in Thomas’ arms against the cool night air. If she closed her eyes, she could hear the violins from below and imagine that perhaps, it was another time where they weren’t on opposite sides of the playing field, and she wouldn’t have been jeopardizing her career by being with him.

Perhaps, she was the second lady, and they were having a little rendezvous against the backdrop of political drama they had to deal with on a weekly basis.

Perhaps, she was the daughter of a modern major-general, he an 18th century aristocrat who had come to ask for permission to court her.

Alas, she was Y/N L/N, renowned lawyer at the District of Columbia US Attorney's Office, who was already on her last thread for exposing so many corrupt policemen working on the force. If they’d caught wind of whatever she had going on with the  _ Vice President of the United States _ , she would be done for.

She sighed once again, and he felt the shift in her demeanor as he pressed kisses on her shoulder.

He hummed, lifting his head from her shoulder, and pressing one last chaste kiss on her lips, before looking at her inquisitively.

“Should I be concerned?”

She shook her head, smiling softly at his attentiveness.

“I was just… thinking.”

Thomas sighed, hands travelling across her back, one resting on the small of her back, pulling her close, as the other cradled the back of her head, burying it against his chest.

“I wish we could be like this in public.” She whispered, her hands resting on his chest, as she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, fingers grazing her jaw as he looked down at her with such an affection in his gaze that almost overwhelmed her.

“I know,” He murmured absently, as he stared at her face, taking in the crinkle on her forehead, and the little barely noticeable scar over her brow, and the bags under her eyes, and the downturn of her lips. He restrained himself from kissing each and every part of her face, as she looked up at him, frowning with worry.

He sighed.

“I wish I could make it easier for you, but you love your job too much, and I wouldn’t ask you to give that up for me.”

She almost snorted at his consideration.

“You say that like I’m the only one standing to lose something from this.”

He grinned mischievously at her, winking.

“See, baby, what you don’t know is I’d gladly sacrifice my reputation for you.”

She laughed at this, a genuine, full-bodied laugh that seemed to take all the weight of her shoulders for a brief moment.

“Is that a challenge, sir?” She teased, raising a playful brow at him.

He hummed, pressing his face against her neck as his hands made their way to her waist.

“I’d happily announce you as the future Second Lady now, if that’s what you want.”

Her breath caught in her chest for a moment as she stared up at him with a shocked expression.

“What?”

He raised his head slightly, still resting on her shoulder, looking up at her with a puzzled expression.

“What? Is that a surprise? Y/N, I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it again: I love you. Only you. Always you.” With every pause in the sentence, he pressed a kiss to her neck.

“I-” She took a sharp inhale of breath, brow furrowing as a flurry of emotions hit her all at once, overwhelming her.

Thomas seemed to understand what was happening in her mind, as he pulled away from her, taking a step back to give her space, smiling softly at her as he took her hand in his. He rubbed gentle circles on the back of her palm with his thumb.

“Hey baby, look at me.”

She closed her eyes, took a breath, and opened her eyes to meet his. Seeing the expression on his face, full of warmth and patience and understanding, god,  _ what had she done to deserve this? _

“I love you.” She blurted out, unable to stop herself as the words tumbled out of her mouth.

He smiled at her, and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“I know.”

She smiled at him endearingly, shaking her head, sighing.

“We can’t come out together just yet, but let’s just enjoy each other’s company right now, hm?” He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She nodded, resting her hands on his shoulders, her head against his chest.

They stood like that, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace against the cold night air, for what felt like hours, before she noticed the noise of the party dying down, and pulled apart from him, hesitantly. He pouted slightly, hurt flickering on his face before disappearing just as quickly.

“We should get back to the party, people might notice we aren’t there.” She explained, glancing down as she bit her lip, feeling guilty to have to part from him.

Thomas sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I s’pose you’re right, sweetheart. We best be headin’ back.”

He shot her a grin, stepping aside, and sweeping his arms in grand motion towards the door, bowing.

“After you, m’dear.”

She rolled her eyes at his antics, smiling fondly at him as she shook her head.

**Author's Note:**

> For updates on the progress of the story, please check out: @the-lost-marauder on tumblr; I'll be posting updates there, and asking questions about things I'll be putting into this fic.  
> Speaking of which, I've finished outlining the plot already, but how do you feel about the Les Amis making an appearance? I need more lawyers and politicians and I don't want to make OCs. That being said, I also just like the idea of Congressman Enjolras sticking it to Thomas during public speeches and not caring at all about the repercussions. 
> 
> Please leave a kudos and a comment! It keeps me motivated to write more, and it lets me know what you guys want to see. Thank you! <333


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